Road Trip
by Fleur27
Summary: During a literature-inspired road trip of the Deep South, Tim and Julie meet Sam and Dean.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Timing-wise for FNL, this is set the summer after Julie's graduated from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

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Chapter One

Julie was proud that she'd managed to remain relatively calm during the actual conversation. She'd limited herself to a few questions, and then stolen a neutral statement right out of the Tami Taylor playbook. Something like "Well, if that's what you feel like you have to do."

She did not say that she understood or that it was okay, because she didn't and it wasn't. She did manage a cool goodbye before she let the veneer of manners slip.

"Unbelievable," Julie muttered as she slammed the receiver back into the cradle. She rubbed her face and tried to compose herself. She was not going to cry. She had to think about this logically. Come up with a new plan.

Because she spent the last several months working three jobs, planning this trip and imagining how great it was going to be. She was damned if Lois' bailing was going to derail her dreams. No way.

Julie took a deep breath and looked around the dim interior of Riggins' Rigs. As a summer job went, it hadn't been too bad. It was Monday-Friday, during the day, which let her pick up the evening shifts at Appleby's and weekend shifts at the swimming pool. Although Billy paid less than Appleby's, but she never had to worry about any of the customers getting handsy. And she got to hang out with Tim all day, which made the time go much faster.

"Damn, Taylor. If I didn't know better, I'd say you just got dumped," said Tim as walked up to the front desk.

"I was. Lois dumped me..."

"You and Lois, huh? I had no idea," said Tim, with a smirk that made Julie want to hit him.

"Very funny," said Julie, rolling her eyes. She gestured to the map and guidebooks spread out over the table. "She bailed on our trip. You know, the one that's supposed to start tomorrow?"

Tim stuffed his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders. "Seriously? Why?"

"Because of her stupid boyfriend who decided he just couldn't live without her for a month....not when she's going away to college straight after.... And she loves him, so she's sure I'll understand." Her cheeks were turning red and she was struggling to keep herself together.

"I'm sorry, Taylor. That sucks. Does this mean you're not going now?" asked Tim as he leaned against the desk.

Julie thought she heard some hopefulness in his question, but she knew that was just because Tim was dreading working alone with Billy again. The brothers were having some problems, since Billy still hadn't forgiven Tim for dropping out of college after one semester.

"I don't know....I'm trying to think of a new plan. I know there's no way my parents will let me go by myself, but I'm not sure who I can find to go with me on such short notice."

"What about Tyra?" asked Tim.

"No, she can't take the time off and, honestly, I'm not sure I could spend a month in a car with her."

"Landry?"

"He's still not talking to me."

"Because of Seven? Still? Damn, the guy broke up with you and what business is it of Landry's anyway?"

"That's just Landry being Landry," said Julie with a shrug and dismissive wave.

She quickly ran down a list of her other friends, testing each one out before thinking of reasons why they wouldn't be able to go. She sighed and folded up the map. "I think I'm pretty much out of options here."

"I'll go with you," said Tim.

Julie looked up at him in surprise. "You'd really want to spend a month doing a literature-based road trip?"

Tim shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"You're not going to be bored, touring the Hemingway house or Rowan Oaks or the Tara Plantation?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Taylor. I'll probably be bored, a lot, but it'll be a hell of a lot better than sitting here for a month, listening to you whine about not going on the trip."

"I do not whine," said Julie.

"Kinda, a little bit, sometimes, you do. Besides, I need to get away from here for awhile."

"But Billy-"

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of that."

Julie looked down at the desk, still covered in guidebooks and pages printed from web sites. Even though the map was folded up, she could picture the route in her head, could trace it out on the desk. For months, she'd lived and breathed nothing but the planning of this great adventure.

"You're sure you really want to do this? You understand what you're getting yourself into?" asked Julie, giving him a chance to back out.

"Yes, I understand. Are you sure you want me to go with you?"

Julie nodded. "Yeah. It'll be fun."

"Great, so what time should I pick you up tomorrow?"

"Oh no, we're driving my car. That's non-negotiable. This is going to be hard enough to sell to my parents without giving them your death-trap of a truck to worry about."

"She's not a death-trap, Taylor. You just hurt my feelings," said Tim, the half-smile on his face clearly saying otherwise.

"I'm sorry, Tim. She's not a death trap. She's an unreliable rust bucket."

"OK, fine, so you'll pick me up tomorrow?"

"No...well, see, Lois was sleeping over tonight. And I'm thinking this will go a lot better if you're there."

"Your parents aren't going to like this."

"No, but there's not much they can do about it," Julie said, her mouth set in a thin determined line while she mentally rehearsed her arguments. This could work. She knew this could work.

"All right then," said Tim, looking at the clock. It was quarter to five and all of the cars that were ready for the day had already been collected. "Give me a few minutes to talk to Billy and then we can swing by my place so I can pack a bag."

Julie smiled and nodded, then watched him walk away. It would be a different trip with Tim along, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Calendar wise, it's July/August. Timing-wise for FNL, it's the summer after Julie's graduation from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright of their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

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Chapter Two

Tim pulled open the back door of Julie's car and dropped his duffel bag in the backseat. After shutting the door, he looked up at the window, where Herc was waving and making silly faces. Tim grinned and waved goodbye, then climbed into the front seat.

"Herc says if we're going to New Orleans and Key West that we're going to need fake IDs," said Tim.

"Is that so?" asked Julie, her eyes on the rearview mirror as she backed slowly out of the driveway.

"Yep. We passing through Shreveport?"

"Yeah. Day Two."

"Good. Herc knows a guy there that makes good IDs and owes him a favor."

"Wait a minute, what happened to Sergeant Riggins?"

"Oh," said Tim with the faint smile of one remembering an old friend. "Sergeant Riggins was captured in a bar in San Antonio. Been MIA ever since."

"For real?"

"Yeah. What are the chances that a bartender's gonna actually know the battalion you say you served in?"

Julie laughed and eased the car to a stop at a red light. She looked over at Tim. "So, hey, you didn't tell me what Billy said. Is he okay with you being gone for a month?"

"Sure. He said to have a good time." Tim looked out the window. It was so much easier to lie to Julie when he wasn't looking at her. Billy had said a lot of things, but none of it had been about having a good time. In fact, Tim was 90% certain that he no longer had a job to come back to at all.

He thought that the fight with his brother and losing his job would bother him, but right now, he just felt free. Well, nearly free. There was still the little matter of clearing this with Coach and Mrs. Taylor.

"So, Taylor, you got a game plan for dealing with your parents?"

"Of course," said Julie. "Just let me do all the talking."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Tim leaned back in the seat and tried to stretch his legs out. He wished they were taking his truck instead of Julie's tiny tin can of a car.

Julie pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. Tim grabbed his back from the backseat and then joined her on the front step. She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

"Well, here goes nothing," said Julie as she pushed open the door and stepped into the house. Tim followed her in, surprised as always by the homey bustle inside.

"Hey Jules, you and Lois ready for your big adventure?" called Mrs. Taylor from the kitchen. Gracie toddled around the corner, laughing and yelling as she caught sight of her big sister.

"Where's Dad?" asked Julie as she and Tim rounded the corner. Mrs. Taylor looked up from the salad she was making. Her eyes widened by a fraction when she saw Tim and her mouth slipped open slightly before she pasted on a smile.

"Hi, Tim....Jules, is everything okay?"

Julie nodded quickly. "Yeah. I just need to talk to you both."

Julie sat down a stool at the counter and Tim did the same. Mrs. Taylor wiped her hands on a dish towel before stepping out into the kitchen area. She pulled open the garage door.

"Hon, can you come here for a second, please?"

Tim heard a grumble followed by a mumbled complaint. He watched as Mrs. Taylor gave Coach a look that resulted in him coming into the house without further argument.

"You're not Lois," said Coach as he spotted Tim.

"No, sir," replied Tim, trying not to grimace when Julie's sharp elbow caught him in the ribs.

"Mom and Dad, Lois bailed on me so Tim is going to come on the trip with me instead," said Julie, opting to rip off the bandaid as quickly as possible.

"Come again?" asked Coach as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Lois called me and said she didn't want to do the road trip anymore. She'd rather spend the time with her stupid boyfriend. I knew you wouldn't let me go alone, so Tim is going with me."

Tim watched as the muscles in Coach's jaw clenched and he wondered what was going to happen next.

"Jules, I'm not too sure about this," began Mrs. Taylor, moving carefully through the words like a woman who was crossing a fast-moving stream by stepping from one slippery rock to the next.

"I've been planning and working toward this trip for the last year. You said I could go as long as I could pay for it myself and I had someone to go with me."

"Someone we trusted," said Coach.

"Eric, I think we need to talk about this for a minute," said Mrs. Taylor as she caught Coach's hand and pulled him down the hallway toward their bedroom.

Julie waited until the door clicked shut behind them, then she went over to the wall. She fiddled with an air vent and then cocked her head, listening carefully. Tim sighed and pushed his stool away from the counter. Reluctantly, he joined Julie near the wall.

He could just make out snippets of their conversation. Honey, she's not a little girl anymore.....Anything could happen......Do you trust him?.....Forget reputation for a second.

It didn't sound good to Tim and he really didn't want to get caught listening. He went over and flopped down on the couch. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. Finally, Coach appeared in the kitchen.

"Tim, come with me," he said. It was clearly an order. Tim jumped up and followed Coach outside. He guessed this was where he was told to leave and never come back.

"You're driving," said Coach, tossing Tim the keys to Julie's car. He nearly fumbled them but recovered nicely.

Tim started the car and edged out of the driveway slowly. He felt more nervous than he had when he took his driver's test. He stopped at the stop sign and looked both ways, checking more closely than he ordinarily would have. He realized that he had no idea where they were going.

"Uh, Coach, which way?" asked Tim.

"The gas station, on 385," said Coach.

It was the longest drive of his life, with Coach sitting stone-faced in the passenger seat. Tim glanced over at him once, when they were stopped at a red light. Coach was rubbing his jaw and half-smiling to himself. It was the dangerous sort of smile that Tim had seen before, usually when someone talked back at football practice. It was a smile that promised wind sprints, bleacher running, and other forms of sadistic exercise.

Tim pulled into the gas station and Coach pointed him toward a pump. He put the car in park and turned it off, then looked over at Coach.

"Riggins, it ain't going to fill itself," barked Coach.

Tim jumped out of the car and grabbed the nozzle, then realized he had forgotten to pop the release for the gas tank. He fumbled for the lever, relieved when his fingers closed around it. He unscrewed the cap, put the nozzle in and took a deep breath. Tim watched the numbers spin up and tried to forget that he was nervous.

When the tank was full, Tim returned the nozzle to the pump. Before he could say anything, Coach stepped out of the car.

"Go on and pull over by the air tank. I want you to check the tire pressure, take care anything that needs taking care of, and then check the oil," said Coach before he went to pay for the gas.

Tim did as he was told, relaxing with every minute. It was clear they were getting the car ready for Julie's road trip. And unless Coach had decided he was going to go along himself, Julie had gotten her way.

Tim was closing the hood of the car when Coach returned. Tim was about to get back into the car when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hold up. I want to talk to you," said Coach.

Tim leaned against the car, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. He knew how much this trip meant to Julie and just hoped that she would be able to go.

"I want something to be crystal clear here. If it were up to me, I'd be dropping you off at home and then locking my daughter in her bedroom for the month. But my wife....my wife says that we can trust you. Can we trust you, Tim?"

"Well, you do say that your wife is always right," said Tim, regretting the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Coach's eyes flashed and he rubbed his jaw.

"Yes, I do say that. But there's an exception to every rule, isn't there?"

Tim looked down and kept his mouth shut. Julie would kill him if he ruined everything at the last minute by saying the wrong thing.

"My wife might be right about you. Or she might be wrong. I really don't know. But what I do know is that she's right when she says that we have to trust Julie. My wife is right when she says that this is like a practice run for Julie going off to college in California. Those things.....she's absolutely right about," said Coach, his voice trailing off.

Tim looked up and found a pair of intense eyes looking right through him.

"We're going to trust you. We're going to trust the both of you. But you better not let us down," said Coach, punctuating each word with a firm tap on Tim's shoulder.

"Yes, sir. I mean, no, no sir, we won't let you down, Coach," said Tim, tripping over the words.

"Here's how it's going to be....you listening?"

Tim nodded.

"Julie's at home right now, making sure that every motel booking y'all have is for two rooms. She's leaving us the list and we'll be checking to make sure y'all are using those separate rooms. We also expect Julie to check in with us every three days. You got that?"

Tim nodded and looked down.

"I can't hear you," said Coach.

"Yes, sir. I got it," said Tim.

Coach walked around the car to the passenger side. Tim let himself have a moment of relief before getting back into the car for another nerve-wracking drive. He didn't mind it though. Coach and Mrs. Taylor were going to trust him and Julie was still going to be able to have her trip. That was all that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Calendar wise, it's July/August. Timing-wise for FNL, it's the summer after Julie's graduation from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright of their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

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Chapter Three

By design, the first day of the road trip was a short one, only a few hundred miles of driving. As anxious as she was to get to the good parts of the trip, Julie didn't want to get burned out on driving. At least Tim would share the driving responsibilities, a chore that Lois had flatly insisted that she wanted no part of.

Julie and Tim left in the mid-morning, carefully timing their journey to miss the worst of the traffic in Dallas. They arrived at Aunt Shelley's house in Plano in the late afternoon. Aunt Shelley was happy to see them, Tim, especially it seemed. Or maybe Julie was just being jealous.

Over a leisurely dinner, Aunt Shelley plied them both with red wine, which Julie privately thought tasted like vinegar mixed with bleach. After dinner, they'd retired to the family room to see what was on television. When Julie felt like she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, she'd excused herself and gone to her room.

Even with the door shut, she could hear the low rumble of Tim's voice and the tinkling sounds of Shelley's laughter. Julie drifted in and out of sleep, sure that she'd heard talking and laughing well into the night.

In the morning, Tim was slow and grumpy, bleakly blaming the wine for his headache. Aunt Shelley cooked them breakfast and Julie couldn't help feeling the tiniest bit judgmental, watching her aunt flit around in a sheer robe and nightdress combination that didn't leave much to the imagination.

It had been a relief to hit the road. They'd gotten an early enough start, since Julie didn't want to get to New Orleans too late and Tim still wanted to stop in Shreveport. The minutes stretched into hours as the miles flew past without any conversation.

Julie glanced over at Tim, who was sprawled in the passenger seat, his head against the window. She couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not.

"Tim, are you awake?" asked Julie, feeling silly. She glanced over again and saw the corner of his mouth curling up into a grin.

"More or less. Are we there yet?"

"Nearly. Another half-hour or so, I think."

Tim stretched as much as was possible in the little car, throwing his arm out behind Julie's seat and leaning forward until his shoulder popped.

"Was that your shoulder?" asked Julie.

"Yep," he yawned.

"Does it hurt?"

"Only when the weather changes. Or when it's been in one position for too long."

"You should've told me. We can stop whenever you need to. Or maybe you want to drive?"

"It's fine, Taylor. No worries. I was too tired to drive this morning anyway."

"Yeah, you and Aunt Shelley seemed to stay up pretty late last night," said Julie, aware that it sounded like she was fishing for details.

Tim shrugged and looked out the window. Julie bit her lip as she considered how to ask the next question.

"Does Aunt Shelley always look at you like that?"

"Look at me like what?"

"Like it's a million degrees out and you're the last popsicle in the world."

"I guess so," said Tim with a small smile.

"Oh my god, you didn't...."

"No, Taylor. I didn't. Never even thought about it."

"Never?" asked Julie, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

Tim grinned at her, one of those slow-burning smiles that bordered on indecent. "Okay, maybe I thought about it, a little."

"Tim! She's practically old enough to be your mother."

Tim shrugged. "What can I say? The women in your family are hot. This shouldn't be news to you."

Julie shifted uncomfortably, not sure if Tim included her in that group. She tried to make a joke. "Even Gracie Belle?"

"Don't be sick. I'm sure she'll grow up to be as pretty as her mom and sister. Although right now, she's kinda weird looking."

"I know! It's like her eyes are growing faster than the rest of her. I've never seen a kid with such bug eyes."

Tim laughed and sat up straighter, shifting around like he was trying to get comfortable. Julie knew that his legs must be cramped after sitting still for so long, but he'd have a chance to walk around in Shreveport.

"What's this crap we're listening to now?" asked Tim as he grabbed Julie's iPod and squinted at the display.

"Oh no, you're not going to complain about my music again, Tim. This is only the second day of the trip and you already spent most of yesterday afternoon complaining about it."

"That's because your music sucks, Taylor," said Tim, in an annoying matter-of-fact tone.

"My music is just fine. It's your taste that sucks."

"You have no idea how to pick music for a road trip. When me and Six went to Mexico, we found one of Herc's old tapes in the truck. AC/DC. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Creedence, Cream, Led Zeppelin, Metallica .... that was music. This is just whining with guitars in the background."

"Why didn't you bring your own iPod?"

"Because it kinda broke."

"Really? You didn't have it for that long, did you? Did you check if it was still under warranty?"

"I don't think the warranty woulda applied," said Tim, looking down with a rueful half-smile.

"But did you check?"

"Do warranties usually cover the thing getting thrown at a wall and breaking in forty-seven pieces?"

"Oh," said Julie, flustered. "Probably not. How did that happen?"

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes. "I don't really want to talk about it, Taylor."

Julie shrugged and turned up the volume on the stereo. Tim leaned over and turned it down.

"This song, Taylor, this song is exactly what I'm talking about."

"What do you mean?"

They were both quiet for a moment. Listening to the words of the Sea Wolf song.

Well my heart is beating hard

And I'm off with a shot at the start

And my legs tremble from strain

But by the finish line I am drained

So won't you run to me tonight?

Tonight let's not talk about next summer

Cause I'll only ever be a middle distance runner

"So what's wrong with that, Tim?" asked Julie, not even bothering to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

"If the guy really wants to be a better runner, there are ways to do it. Weight training. Wind sprints. Hill work. Seriously, all it takes is the right training program."

Julie laughed and looked over at Tim, who looked at her with a serious expression.

"Oh my god.....Are you serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious. Maybe the guy needs to find a new coach."

Julie bit her lip. She felt bad for laughing at him. She'd really thought he was joking.

"It's a metaphor, Tim. The song isn't about running at all. It's about the guy's shortcomings as a boyfriend. He's more Mr. Right Now than he is Mr. Right and he knows that's all he's ever going to be. He's the guy you have fun with. He's not the guy you marry."

"Oh," said Tim who seemed to deflate as he slumped against the car door.

Julie saw the exit for Shreveport. Not a minute too soon, she thought. The atmosphere in the car wasn't tense, exactly, but she could tell that she'd sort of hurt Tim's feelings and she felt bad.

"I didn't mean to laugh at you, Tim."

"It's okay, Taylor. Don't worry about it."

"So, where are we going?"

"Pull up over there," said Tim, pointing toward a low-slung diner.

Julie did as he instructed and then looked over at him expectantly. He got out of the car, so she got out and walked up onto the sidewalk.

"Give me your license," said Tim.

"My license?" Julie wanted to ask more questions but Tim cut her off with an impatient look. She sighed and opened her purse, unzipped an inner pocket and fished it out. She handed it over with a questioning look.

Tim took the license and then plucked the car keys out of her other hand. "Go wait for me in the diner. I should be back in an hour or so."

"I'm going with you, Tim."

"You can't. Herc told me to go alone. He was really clear about that."

Julie opened her mouth to argue, but then realized it was pointless. "Just don't crash my car."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Tim. Julie shook her head and walked over toward the diner. She was annoyed that Tim had waited until the last minute to tell her that he'd be dumping her at the side of the road. But she supposed that she should count her blessings.

At least she had a place to wait for him that wasn't a dive bar or a sleazy motel and they were still well on schedule to be in New Orleans at a decent hour. She was right about this not being the same trip that it would have been with Lois. And she was also right about that not necessarily being a bad thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Calendar wise, it's July/August. Timing-wise for FNL, it's the summer after Julie's graduation from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright of their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

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Chapter Four

Hot Springs, Arkansas

Dean put the last of the weapons in the bottom of the trunk, dropped the false bottom to cover them, and then closed the trunk. He turned around and leaned against the car, looking up just in time to catch the beer that his brother tossed him.

Sam joined Dean in leaning against the back of the Impala and looked out over Lake Hamilton. For once, they'd finished a job early enough to see the sunset. He usually enjoyed these quiet moments with his brother, but right now, he just wanted to go back to the motel and sleep. As jobs go, it hadn't been too bad, but Sam was feeling the strain of months on the road, each day bleeding into the next.

"Nice work today," said Dean as he popped open the beer.

"I'm sorry I got a little out of control with the blowtorch," replied Sam sheepishly. "That bastard just moved so fast."

"Don't worry about it. We didn't lose anything that can't be replaced."

"What about the IDs?" Sam felt doubly bad about that one. Dean had warned him about carrying all the IDs in his backpack.

"I know a guy in Shreveport - does awesome work. We'll go tomorrow."

Sam nodded but said nothing.

"So, Sammy, we're done early for once. What do you want to do tonight?" asked Dean as he crushed his beer can, flattening it into a neat little circle.

"Sleep."

"Yeah, before that. Hit the bars maybe? Scout the local talent?"

"No, Dean, I just want to sleep."

"What are you, one of the Golden Girls? You want to get the early bird special and be tucked in for Murder, She Wrote before nine?"

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but sighed instead. Dean was partly right, mostly wrong, and there wasn't any point in fighting with him anyway. Sam took a long sip of beer and waited for his brother's next insult.

"C'mon, Sammy, it'll do you good. Get out a little bit," said Dean, his tone softer.

"Really, I just need to sleep. I haven't been sleeping very well lately. Maybe if I have an early night, I can catch up and I won't make more stupid mistakes like today."

Dean looked over and Sam returned the gaze, his mouth set in a stubborn line and his eyes serious.

"Okay, okay. But you don't mind if I go out, do you?"

"Knock yourself out." Sam drained the rest of his beer and got into the car.

The ride back to the motel took only a few minutes. Dean pulled the Impala up in front of their room.

"Sure you won't change your mind?"

"I'm sure." Sam stepped out of the car and shut the door. He gave a half-hearted wave and watched Dean drive away. Then he unlocked the motel room door and stepped inside.

It was dim and smelled faintly of mold. Sam didn't bother to turn on a light. He sat down on the bed closest to the door and then lay back and closed his eyes.

It was easier when he was working, when he was moving, when he was talking to Dean. He knew he needed to sleep. But that didn't make being alone any easier. Because whenever Sam had a minute to think, all he could think about was the jagged hole in the middle of his heart and everything he'd lost.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Palace of Pie, Shreveport, Louisiana

Sam sipped his coffee and watched Dean polish off his second piece of pie. Dean had insisted that if they were in Shreveport, they had to stop at Palace of Pie. Had to. Like it was a written rule or a moral imperative. Sam had agreed, mostly because he knew better than to stand between Dean and food. Guy could lose an arm, doing something stupid like that.

"Sammy, you really should've come out with me last night. There was a nurses' convention in town," said Dean, looking up from his pie with a wolfish grin.

Sam shook his head. "I really did need the sleep. I feel a lot better today."

"Good, then maybe you can go out tonight."

"I don't know, Dean. Haven't really been feeling much like going out," said Sam, looking down into his coffee like it held all the answers to life's questions.

"I can't even imagine what you've been through, this last year or so, and I know you're hurting.....but don't you think that maybe it's time you gave yourself permission to live again," said Dean.

Sam looked up and met his brother's open, honest gaze. He felt his cheeks flush and he shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, Dean. I just don't feel....ready or something."

"You're dragging your feet, Sammy. I'm not going to pretend to know the reasons why or to think that I can offer some great advice to make you see the light, but I'm telling you, if you don't start moving on soon, you're going to be stuck where you are forever."

Sam knew his brother's heart was in the right place, but that didn't make the words any easier to hear. He nodded and looked back down at the table.

"Look around, Sammy, the girl of your dreams could be right here, just waiting for you."

Sam laughed. "Dean, every woman in this place is at least forty years older than me."

"Hey, cougars need love too. Even elderly cougars. I saw that wink Clara the waitress gave you. And she brought you an extra scoop of ice cream. I'm telling you, you're in there for sure."

"Thanks....thanks a lot," said Sam and grinned easily. For the first time in longer than he could remember, his smile was genuine. He didn't know how Dean did it, but he suddenly felt just that little bit lighter.

The bell above the door chimed and both brothers looked up to watch a pretty blonde walk in. She was young, maybe college-age, and her hair was long and hung straight down her back. When she smiled at the hostess, it was the kind of smile that could light up a room.

Sam watched as the girl followed the hostess to a booth near the window. She was wearing an oversized blue sweatshirt and black shorts that showed off her long tan legs. She sat down on the side of the booth so that she was facing Sam's general direction and he tried be smooth and not stare openly.

Dean, of course, had no such qualms. He slid to the wall and turned so his legs were stretched out across the bench. He put his arm along the back of the booth and tried for the casual look, but he was a bit too excited to pull it off.

"That's the one, Sammy. I'm telling you. It's like Fate just walked in here. You've got to go talk to her."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dean."

"I'm not. She's perfect for you. Beauty and brains, all in one cute package. You'd be a fool to walk out of here without talking to her."

"Brains, huh? And how do you know that? Because of your famous people reading skills?"

"Yes. And she's reading Faulkner. Well, when she's not checking you out, she's reading Faulkner."

"Are you serious?"

"About the Faulkner? Dead serious."

"No, not about the Faulkner, about the other thing."

"See for yourself."

Sam took a deep breath and looked up. The girl looked down quickly, a blush rising in her cheeks. Sam grinned and watched her for a moment, willing her to look up. When she did, he held her gaze and she gave him a warm smile before looking away.

"Go talk to her," commanded Dean as he pulled out his wallet.

"No, really, I can't. We have to go to that guy."

"Tino doesn't like dealing with more than one person, so I'm going by myself. I was going to make you wait in the car, but you might as well wait here."

"I'll wait in the car."

Dean sighed and dropped enough money on the table to cover the check and a tip. "Fine, Sammy. Have it your way then but you're missing out."

Sam followed Dean out toward the door. When they got near the girl's table, Dean tripped and crashed into it, knocking over her iced tea.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," said Dean, grabbing the napkin dispenser and trying to mop up the mess. He looked over at Sam and gave him a wink.

"It's okay," said the girl as she slid over in an attempt to get out of the way of the iced tea, which was starting to cascade over the edge of the table. Dean nearly emptied the napkin dispenser but he soon had the spill mostly cleaned up.

"Hi, I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam."

"I'm Julie," she said, looking from Dean to Sam, her smile getting just a little brighter.

"I'm really sorry about this. I can be a real klutz sometimes."

"It's okay, really. Don't worry about it."

"You know what, Julie? Let me make it up to you," said Dean as he grabbed Sam's shoulder and shoved him onto the bench across from Julie. "Sammy here can buy you a new iced tea. I have an errand to run, but I'll be back soon. You kids have fun."

Sam turned to glare at Dean's retreating figure, but realized that was like cursing the sun for rising and setting each day. He turned back to Julie and smiled at her.

"Sorry about that. My brother's......well, I don't know what exactly he is, but I'm sorry."

"Really, it's okay," said Julie as she put a bookmark into As I Lay Dying.

"So, do you live around here?"

Julie shook her head. "No, I'm from Texas. I'm on a road trip with one of my friends. It's sort of a graduation thing, I guess you could sort of call it."

"Congratulations. How long have you been on the road?"

"This is only the second day. We're heading to New Orleans."

"Great town. I bet you'll like it."

Julie smiled. "I hope so. I've been planning this trip for months and, well, sometimes it's scary, like it could only end up being a disappointment."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said Sam, surprised at how relaxed he felt. "So, where did you graduate from?"

"Dillon....High School." From the pause, Sam could tell that she'd considered lying or letting him think she'd graduated from college. He gave her points for honesty but wondered if she was maybe too young for him. He knew Dean would say she was plenty legal and that he should stop over-thinking every thing.

"Where are you going to college?"

"Berkley," said Julie, her whole face lighting up with excitement.

"It's a great school, I'm sure you'll love it there."

"Yeah. It'll just be nice to be somewhere that high school football isn't considered the highlight of the social and cultural calendar. So...how about you? You live around here?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I work with my brother and we travel a lot."

"Really? What do you do?"

"We're sort of....like exterminators, but not exactly. We take care of people's pest problems, but not ordinary pests." Sam knew he should have a stock answer to the question, or that he should just learn to lie the way Dean did, but he found that he didn't want to lie to Julie. But he also knew he couldn't tell her the truth. Not the whole truth, at least.

"What, like alligators and boa constrictors?"

"Something like that."

"That sounds cool. How did you get into that?"

Sam shrugged. "Our father did it, so I guess we were just kind of born into it. But that's boring, tell me about your trip."

Sam felt better, steering the conversations away from his shady occupation. Julie's trip was interesting, based on authors of the Deep South, and Sam felt like he was learning a lot about her. They chatted for the next half-hour, the conversation moving smoothly with no awkward questions or uncomfortable pauses.

"Hey, you know, we're headed down to New Orleans today too, so maybe we could meet up for dinner tonight. If you don't have any other plans," said Sam, his comfort making him unusually bold. Dean would be proud.

"Yeah, that would be great, although," said Julie, frowning and biting her lip.

"Although what....oh..... You have a boyfriend," said Sam in a flat, disappointed tone.

"No," replied Julie, shaking her head. "Do you? I mean, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No. So what's the problem? I'm sure your friend and my brother will get along great."

Julie giggled. "I don't think my friend is going to be your brother's type."

"Don't worry about that. My brother doesn't really have a type, per se."

"Well, for one thing, my friend is named Tim."

Sam laughed. "Right. Well, then, I suppose Tim probably isn't my brother's type. But I'm sure they'll get along fine. It'll be fun."

"Good," said Julie as she pulled out her cell phone. They exchanged numbers and made plans to meet on Bourbon Street at 8pm. Just as they were finished making their plans, the door chimed.

"Taylor," said a deep voice. Sam looked up and saw a guy, who he was guessing had to be Tim. The guy was broad-shouldered and had longish hair that fell down into his eyes. He looked momentarily confused and then eyed Sam suspiciously.

"Hi Tim. Sam, this is Tim. Tim, Sam," said Julie, speaking quickly.

Tim held out a hand and Sam gave it a firm shake.

"I guess we better hit the road. See you tonight, Sam," said Julie as she scrambled out of the booth and gathered her things.

Tim opened his mouth but Julie silenced him with a single sharp look, leaving Sam both amused and impressed. He waved to Julie and watched her walk out the door.

Sam smiled to himself as he decided two things. One, Dean was right and he was going to give himself permission to have fun tonight. And two, not telling Dean about Tim had the makings of a great practical joke.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Calendar wise, it's July/August. Timing-wise for FNL, it's the summer after Julie's graduation from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright of their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

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Chapter Five

Shreveport, Louisiana

Dean pulled up in front of the diner and smiled when he saw Sam was sitting where he left him. The girl was gone, but judging from the way Sam was staring into the distance, Dean thought it looked like the meeting had been a success.

Dean gave a sharp blast of the horn, causing Sam to startle before he gathered up his papers and came outside.

"So, how'd it go with Julie?" asked Dean as Sam got into the car.

"Good, Dean, real good." Sam's goofy grin reminded Dean of another lifetime. "Uh, I hope you don't mind, but I told her that we'd meet her and her friend for dinner in New Orleans tonight."

"Sammy! Mind? I'm totally proud of you. Where in New Orleans?"

"We're going to meet on Bourbon Street around 8 and then find some place."

"No, absolutely not. That's not the way to do it. You go that way then you got four people standing around on a crowded touristy sidewalk saying 'I don't know, what do you want?'" Dean shook his head as vehemently as he could while still keeping his eyes on the road.

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I know a place, real laid-back and low-key, nearly a roadhouse. Best burgers in the South, good music, just a simple kind of place."

Sam shrugged. "If you think that's the right call."

"I do Sammy, I absolutely do. You got this girl's number? Good, dial it there and then give me your phone."

Reluctantly, Sam pulled out his phone and handed it over to Dean, who put on his charming voice and explained to Julie the change of plans. In less than two minutes, the call was over and Dean was pleased.

"So, tell me about her friend."

Sam covered his mouth, then rubbed it, a troubling tell as far as Dean was concerned.

"Oh, I see, I'm going to be playing wingman here, taking one for the team. That's fine. I can do that for my brother."

"I don't know," said Sam with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Some people might find her friend attractive."

"Yeah, well, some people are into all kinds of weird shit. We don't have to go down that road."

"How'd it go at Tino's?" asked Sam.

"Tino's great. Check under the seat."

Sam leaned down and fumbled around, eventually coming up with a small shoebox. He pulled off the lid and flipped through its contents. "Bureau of Indians Affairs. CDC. FBI. Homeland Security. State Liquor Control Board. These are great."

"Yeah, I told you the guy does great work."

"Seems like you were gone a long time."

"Yeah, well, you're not going to believe what happened."

"What?"

"I was waiting out front and this dude comes out and insults my baby."

"No!" exclaimed Sam in a joking tone that made Dean's blood pressure rise a little more.

"Yes, he did," replied Dean as he patted the dashboard. "You know I don't like it when someone insults my baby."

"What did the guy say?"

"He said she was idling a little bit rough," said Dean, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Well? Was she?"

"That's not the point, Sammy. The point is that you gotta work up to something like that. Maybe you compliment the rims first. Ask a question or two. You don't just walk up to a guy and announce that his baby is idling a bit rough. It's bad form."

Sam tried but failed to suppress a chuckle. Dean shot him a dirty look and gave the dashboard another reassuring pet.

"You still haven't answered my question. Was she idling rough?"

"Maybe, a little," said Dean, brimming over with agitation. "That's why I was late - I had a check and there was a loose connection that I had to take care of. And maybe I hadn't heard it because I was listening to the stereo. But still, Sammy, that's not the point."

"No, apparently the point is that a guy has to buy you dinner before he can give you any constructive criticism about your car."

Dean sighed in disgust. "Sammy, it's like I don't even know you. Maybe you're the milkman's kid or something."

"Maybe I just get that the guy was trying to be helpful. His only crime was maybe being a bit too blunt. But maybe it's just that you're too sensitive."

"Sammy," said Dean, pointing a warning finger at his brother. "We are going to have to agree to disagree on this one."

"Fine, Dean," he said, putting his hands up in surrender. "Want to talk about where we might go after New Orleans?"

"Sure. You got some place picked out?"

"Well, I was reading the paper and doing a bit of online research and it looks like we're spoiled for choice in a 500 mile radius."

"The gothic South, what do you expect?" said Dean with a crooked grin.

Sam opened the journal and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "So, let's see.....we got....possible poltergeist in Huntsville, Alabama. Mysterious history of college students going missing from the Whispering Pines Lodge in Mobile, a crying statue in Jacksonville, and a suspicious death involving a combine harvester in the backwoods of Georgia. Or, if you wanted to head back to East Texas, there are reports of a chupacabra."

"Tempting. But maybe we should wait and see where your special lady friend is heading and make our plans based on that."

Sam rolled his eyes and continued to lay out the pros and cons of each job, just like he always did. Dean settled in for the duration, but part of his brain was ticking over plans for how to make sure that Sammy had the best chance of spending as much time as possible with Julie. God knew that it had been a long time since his brother had seemed so relaxed and hopeful. Anything Dean could do to prolong that had to be a good thing.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

New Orleans

The Winchesters stepped into the dimly lit interior of the bar and Sam groaned.

"I thought you said this was a good place."

"It is a good place, Sammy. Trust me."

"Dean, there are peanut shells on the floor and it looks like those bikers at the bar could start a fistfight any second."

"All part of the charm," said Dean, scanning the room. He spotted the familiar blonde just as she waved to him. The guy sitting next to her was also familiar, and not at all a welcome surprise.

Sam took a step forward but Dean pulled him back.

"What?"

"Sammy, what's he doing here?"

"Oh, right. Um, that's her friend," said Sam with a tentative smile.

"I'm going to overlook for right now your lame practical joke, making me think her friend was a girl-"

"Good," interrupted Sam as he pulled away and walked over to the table, greeting Julie warmly. Dean trailed behind, grumbling ominously to himself.

"Hi Dean, this is my friend Tim, Tim this is Sam's brother, Dean." Julie made the introductions quickly, her eyes darting between them.

Recognition dawned in Tim's eyes and he smiled. "Hey, I remember you - the Impala guy. You get that fixed?"

Dean nodded stiffly and sat down across from Tim.

"Oh, you're the owner of the famous Impala that Tim talked about for two hundred miles?"

A proud smile crept onto Dean's face before he could stop it. "I am."

"Good," said Julie, her eyes on Sam. "I'm sure you two will have plenty to talk about."

As it turned out, Julie's friend wasn't much of a talker. Dean tried, but the kid's vocabulary seemed limited to a few words and gestures. He seemed especially fond of shrugging, like he didn't know or care about anything.

For Dean, the dinner was excruciating so he consoled himself with how delicious his burger was and how happy Sam seemed. If conversation with Tim was hampered by too few words, the conversation between Julie and Sam had far too many words. And they were all about books and authors and symbolism. Dean thought he'd even heard his brother say something about the role of literature in the post-Reconstruction South. It was enough to give a guy a headache.

After the waitress had cleared their plates away, Julie excused herself from the table, leaving the three guys to sit in awkward silence. Dean gave Sam a tight smile and Sam tried to make small talk with Tim. Dean leaned back casually in his chair and felt better as Sam got even less out of Tim than he had.

Dean looked around the bar and noticed Julie at the jukebox. She fed a handful of quarters into the machine, smiling to herself as she made her selections. Then she practically floated over to the table.

"I really hope one of you guys is willing to dance with me," she said, looking intently at Sam.

"Oh, I don't know about that....is this really the kind of place-" stuttered Sam.

Dean cut him off with an elbow to the ribs. "Of course it is, Sammy. Look over there - that big old square that doesn't have any tables or peanut shells, that's the dance floor. Go on."

Julie handed her purse to Tim and then took Sam's hand and pulled him away. Sam looked back with an expression that Dean couldn't quite read. But he could read Tim's expression just fine. Someone wasn't very happy to be the designated purse watcher, that was for sure.

Tim looked down at the purse on the table in front of him, his hair falling into his face. God, the kid needs a haircut even worse than Sammy does, thought Dean. He picked up the pitcher of beer and topped off Tim's glass.

"So, you can tell me the truth....you hitting that?" asked Dean with a smarmy grin, his head tilted toward the dance floor. Julie was twirling around, smiling and laughing, while Sam held her hand over her head.

"No," said Tim, looking up. "But I'm going to seriously hit you if you talk about Julie like that again."

Dean put his hands up. "Okay, okay. No need to get your chivalrous panties all in a bunch."

Tim picked up his glass and drained half of it. Dean motioned for the waitress to bring them another pitcher.

"I just can't figure out why not. Unless she shot you down."

Tim shook his head. He drank the rest of his beer and re-filled his glass.

"Because, you know, she's really something else. Smart, pretty, funny. You two been friends a long time?"

"Yeah, a while."

"And you never even tried. You sure you're not gay or something?"

Tim laughed, a deep rumble that surprised Dean. "Yeah. I'm sure."

Dean found himself wanting to rattle this guy, wanting to get a reaction out of him, wanting to push him. He looked up at Sam, who was now slow-dancing with Julie, her head resting on his chest.

"She looked like a nice girl."

"She is," said Tim, looking over his shoulder. Something flickered on his face momentarily and then was gone. Dean didn't know what it was and would have missed it if he hadn't been looking for a reaction.

"But you know, nice girls.... Sometimes that's all an act. They just seem like nice girls when really they're totally wild and game for just about anything. Julie-"

Tim stood up and started to walk away. "I don't want to hear it. I'll be at the bar."

Dean put out an arm to stop him. "I'm sorry, man. I'm an asshole sometimes. Sit back down. I promise to knock it off."

Tim looked at Dean appraisingly. He sat back down, Julie's purse now resting in his lap.

"Let me ask you a question though. Why didn't you hit me?"

Tim shrugged and looked down. After a long pause, he spoke slowly. "I guess because your brother would jump in and it would ruin Julie's night."

"You weren't worried about fighting the both of us?"

"No."

"You should be," said Dean.

"Maybe."

"How do you know Sam would've jumped in?"

"You're brothers, aren't you?"

Dean nodded and Tim said nothing, but his look said it all.

"You got a brother?"

"One, Billy. He's way older than me."

"You two close?"

"You ask a lot of questions," said Tim.

"What else is there to do? Watch my brother make out with your girl.....friend?"

Tim looked over his shoulder and Dean laughed.

"Ha! Made you look."

"Real mature," said Tim, leaning back in his seat.

Dean didn't know how many quarters Julie had put in that jukebox, but she and Sam seemed to be dancing forever. Or maybe it just felt like forever, since even with at least two pitchers of beer in him, Tim was still not much of a talker. After yet another long and only partially comfortable silence, Tim stood up.

"I think I need a few shots. You want one?"

Dean nodded.

"Oh, and could you watch Julie's purse?" asked Tim as dropped the bag in the middle of the table.

"Sure," said Dean.

He watched Tim walk up to the bar. He ended up standing next to a woman with big hair and long legs. Dean smiled and started counting in his head. Seven seconds. It took all of seven seconds before the woman was leaning forward, asking Tim something.

Dean stole a look at Sam and Julie, but they were dancing like the rest of the world no longer existed. Perfect. Dean reached into the purse, pulled out Julie's journal, and dropped it in his lap. The girl was as organized as he'd expected and her itinerary covered the first several pages. An entire month of traveling planned out.

"Jackpot," said Dean to himself as he memorized as much as he could. He took another look at the dance floor and decided he couldn't risk any more snooping, much as he might like to see what Julie may have written about his brother.

He slid the journal back into the purse and leaned back casually. A few minutes later, Julie and Sam returned to the table.

"Where's Tim?" asked Julie as she sat down in the seat he'd just vacated. Sam sat down next to her, smoothly moving the chair closer to Julie. She leaned into Sam's arm.

"Went to get something from the bar. I think he's been delayed."

"So, Dean, Julie was telling me about this walk she's doing tomorrow morning. The Confederacy of Dunces tour," began Sam.

"And what? You need me and Tim to go along to be the dunces?"

"No," said Sam with an impatient smile. "I was thinking you could sleep in and then I could go on the tour."

"Sure, Sammy."

"Uh, have you made our next appointment yet? I know we've gotten a few inquiries" asked Sam, his eyes trying to tell Dean something.

Dean was momentarily confused before he realized what Sam was doing. "Inquiries, of course. We pretty much have our pick. You got anything in mind?"

"Tim and I are staying here for five days, then we're going to Mobile. A few of my favorite bands are playing a concert there and I've got tickets. Tim, well, he hates my music, so I'm sure he won't mind if Sam goes with me instead. You know....if you're going to be in Mobile then."

"Sure. Out of curiosity, where are you planning on staying on Mobile? I know the town pretty well." said Dean.

"Whispering Pines Lodge. They had a special deal on the internet."

Dean's eyes widened as he looked at Sam. It was at times like this that Dean wished they'd been the kind of kids who'd invented their own secret language.

"Julie, I don't think Tim's ever coming back. Can you be a pal and check up on him there?" asked Dean.

Julie bit her bottom lip and looked between the brothers. "Yeah, sure."

"Dude, what the hell?" asked Sam.

"I know you haven't had enough to drink, so you must be drunk on something else, but think for a minute, Sammy," said Dean.

"What?"

"Whispering. Pines. Lodge."

"Oh, shit."

"On the bright side, I guess we're going to be in Mobile."

"Yeah, but Dean, we gotta be there right away and make sure the job is done right before Julie gets there."

"I know. You go on that walk with her tomorrow and then we'll leave right after."

"No, screw that. We'll leave first thing."

"Sammy, a few hours isn't going to make a difference. Have some fun."

"All right, Dean. But then we get right to work," said Sam with grim determination.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I'm sure I'm bending all kinds of rules and fudging all sorts of canon to bring these two worlds together. Any mistakes are my own. Calendar wise, it's July/August. Timing-wise for FNL, it's the summer after Julie's graduation from high school. Timing-wise for SPN, it's some time during the middle of the first season.

Disclaimer: SPN and FNL are copyright of their respective copyright holders. I don't own anything here and am just doing this for fun.

* * *

Chapter Six

New Orleans, Louisiana

Tim woke up slowly, as though he was surfacing from a great depth. The sun slanting in through the blinds made him reluctant to open his eyes. When he finally did, he blinked a few times as the room came into focus.

He always hated these first few minutes of the morning, when he was temporarily disoriented and had to piece together where he was and how he got there.

Then he saw Julie's suitcase, which looked like it had exploded all over the bed, and it all came back to him. He was on Julie Taylor's epic road trip.

When he promised Coach that they would have separate rooms, he'd meant it. But he hadn't reckoned on Julie not meaning it. When they pulled up in front of the All Saints Motel, Julie had reapplied her lip gloss and told him to keep his mouth shut.

He had dutifully followed her into the motel office, a narrow little room that smelled like mildew. Julie smiled at the guy behind the counter and given him some story about her parents being overprotective and in denial. She'd slid her fake ID over to him, along with a $20 bill. Then she'd extracted a promise from the guy that he would only take messages if her parents called.

"Do you really think that's going to work?" Tim asked after they left the office. He turned the room key over in his hand, wondering why Julie would want to share a room with him in the first place.

"Of course it's going to work. I've been calling them more often than they asked me to, to try to prevent their calling me. And if it doesn't work, do you really think my dad's going to drive all the way out here to drag me home, kicking and screaming?"

"Yeah, Taylor, actually, I do. In case you hadn't noticed, your dad can be scary sometimes."

Julie waved a hand dismissively. "He's all bluster."

Tim looked at Julie skeptically, then saw that they were in front of their room. He put the key in the door, unlocked it, then pushed it open.

"Why didn't you want your own room anyway? Is it a money thing? Because I can pay for my own room, you know."

Julie shook her head as she bounced down onto the bed that was furthest away from the door. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Yeah, sure, I promise." Tim dropped his duffel bag on his bed.

"OK. I watched this Lifetime movie once about a creepy maintenance guy who kills women who check into their rooms alone. It was based on a true story and it freaked me out. Still does. So I'd just feel better not being alone."

"That sounds more like Psycho than a true story."

"Thanks, for putting that idea in my head. Now I'm not going to be able to shower."

"Well, you know," said Tim, looking over at Julie with a slow-burning smile, "I'd be willing to help you out."

Julie rolled her eyes and then tossed a pillow at him. He tossed it back, but was surprised by the unexpected tangent his mind was taking. A little daydream involving Julie Taylor and a shower that was quite surprising. And something that, since they were going to be sharing a room, seemed like it was suddenly in the realm of possibility.

But in the cold light of morning, Tim knew that nothing was going to happen between him and Julie. She had gotten instantly and ridiculously infatuated with that Sam guy. The only good thing about Sam, as far as Tim was concerned, was that at least he wasn't Dean.

Tim groaned and pulled himself into a sitting position. He noticed a styrofoam cup and a white paper bag on top of the television. He staggered over and found cold coffee, pastries, and a note from Julie saying that she'd be back in the early afternoon. He opened all of the sugar packets in the bag and dumped them into his coffee, which was the only way to make cold coffee drinkable.

Then he settled back onto his bed with his breakfast and the remote control. Still time to see the morning repeat of Sports Center before he had to start moving. But he'd forgotten that this time of year was the dead zone on Sports Center - all baseball. Home runs and strikeouts all looked the same to him.

Tim finished his breakfast, then had a shower and got dressed. He was still hungry, but he hoped that Julie would be back soon and they could get some real food somewhere. He supposed that he could leave her a note and go out on his own, but he found that he didn't want to.

Hearing the low rumble of an engine, he looked up and watched the familiar Impala pull into the hotel lot. Tim got up and had a peak through the blinds, feeling a bit like their nosy elderly neighbor. But he figured he had a reason, since he'd promised Coach he'd look after Julie and now, here she was, spending time with a guy who could be a serial killer for all they knew.

That was the thing about living in a small town. At least you knew everyone. Knew what they were capable of. Knew what was inside of them. Guy might be a scumbag in Dillon, but at least you knew it.

Tim watched as Julie and Sam got out of the car. Sam leaned against the driver's door, while Julie practically skipped around to his side. Her hair was loose and curly and she was wearing shorts, a tank top, and blue sneakers.

Julie came to a stop in front of Sam and Tim could see that the guy just had no moves at all. It was kind of sad, actually. He had this hot girl, leaning toward him, smiling, putting a soft hand on his arm while he was just standing there with his hands jammed in his pockets.

Maybe he just wasn't that into her. That would be just fine with Tim. But then Julie said something that made Sam laugh and the way he looked at her then, Tim knew it was going to be nothing but trouble. A suspicion that was confirmed when the couple shared a long hug that ended with Julie on her tiptoes, stretching up to give Sam a quick kiss.

Tim had seen enough and he didn't want to get caught. He threw himself down on the bed, hoping for casual and bored, and flipped the TV back on.

Thirty seconds later, Julie walked through the door, closed it and then leaned up against it like she was weak in the knees.

"You have a nice time on that dunce walk or whatever?" asked Tim.

Julie looked over at him, like she was snapping out of a daze. "What? Oh, yeah, it was great. Really great. Except we didn't go on the walking tour."

She floated over to the bed and started clearing it off.

"What you mean you didn't go on the walk? Then what've you been doing for the last six hours?" asked Tim, a bit more gruffly than he'd intended.

Julie looked up at him, surprised, then laughed. "You sound like my dad. We showed up at the walking tour place, but not enough people were there to have a tour. They need like 8 or something and it was just me and Sam and this other lady. So Sam and I just had our own walking tour."

"Your own walking tour? You just walked around New Orleans for hours?"

"Well, yeah, and we talked too. He had all kinds of great insights about John Kennedy Toole and he just knows a lot about literature in general. Oh, and he adores Tennessee Williams. We probably talked about A Streetcar Named Desire for two hours."

Tim allowed himself a brief sigh of relief. They'd done nerdy things for six hours. Nothing to panic over or worry about. Tim drifted off into his own thoughts while Julie happily babbled away about all of the amazing things they'd seen and all the smart stuff Sam had said.

"So, uh, Taylor, what do you really know about this guy?" Tim asked when Julie finally took a breath.

Julie looked up from the shirt she was folding. "What are you talking about?"

"Sam. What do you really know about him?"

"He's a good guy, Tim. Really, he is."

"Yeah, but what do you know about him? Where's he from? What's he doing traveling around the country with his brother?"

Julie rolled her eyes. "You know, if I wanted to go on a road trip with my father, I would've asked him."

"I'm just trying to look out for you," said Tim with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, I don't really appreciate it, Tim. I'm old enough to pick my own dates."

Tim sighed. "Okay, fine. I'm just saying that someone who can't even stay in a motel room by herself might want to think twice about just picking up strange men on the road."

"Why should I when I apparently have you to do that for me. Paternalism went out of style at least forty years ago."

"I don't even know what that means."

"It means that I can take care of myself. It also means that I will be seeing Sam again in Mobile and that you're not going to hassle me about it. Understand?"

Jesus. Standing there, with her hands on her hips and her eyes all fierce, there was no doubting that she was Tami Taylor's daughter. It was a little disconcerting. And more than a little hot.

He got up from the bed, his hands up in surrender. "OK, Taylor. Fine. I get it."

"Where are you going?" she asked as he pulled open the door.

"To find some lunch. You want to come along?"

She shook her head. "No, Sam and I had lunch already."

"Yeah, all right. I'll be back later," said Tim, closing the door behind him. It was only after the door clicked shut behind him that he realized he had no map or key. He shrugged and picked a direction, wanting only to put some space between him and their suddenly too-small hotel room.


End file.
